


Baby, Lie with Me

by pinchpoint



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: After reconciliation, Comfort, Domestic, Established Relationship, Humor, M/M, No Angst, One Shot, Other than Gabriel dealing with chronic pain, Post-Fall of Overwatch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 07:11:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14806725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinchpoint/pseuds/pinchpoint
Summary: Gabriel has a bad night. Jack helps distract him a bit.





	Baby, Lie with Me

Jack wakes up to an empty bed. That isn't such a familiar occurrence these days. Dingy yellow light from outside cuts through the darkness of the room, allowing Jack to see as he sits up. A glance over the edge tells him enough. 

Turning over, he grabs his comm and sends Sombra a message to let her know. Jack hangs his head and right arm off the side of the bed to peer at the puddle of smoke pooled on the ground. When his hand makes contact it swirls around him, reaching up his arm slightly.

Gabriel has days like this now. When the pain is too much and the best way to get away is to cease for a bit. It hurts Jack to know he’s in pain and there isn’t much he can do for him.

But he can be there, so he will be. Their enemies will just have to wait.

He swirls his hand a bit, playing in the smoke and smiling at how it wraps around his fingers and wrist, seems to tug at him. He can imagine Gabriel raising his eyebrow at him, saying something smartass.

“Our usual system for communication?” Jack asks.

Smoke winds around his index and middle fingers signaling yes.

“Do you want to eat now?”

This time it’s just his index finger, signaling a ‘ _No_ ’ from Gabriel. Jack’s skeptical but doesn’t push. Somewhere on the bed his comm pings, probably from Sombra. He continues his line of questioning. “Movies?” _No_. “Music?” _No_.

“Sex?” He asks. The smoke leaves his hand makes a swelling motion. Jack guesses a shoulder shrug. He shrugs back, “Eh, nevermind. Think I’ll pass.”

That earns him a smoke-covered middle finger; effectively a ‘ _fuck you_ ’ from Gabriel.

Jack laughs and ceases asking any more questions. He’s heard enough about these days from Gabriel to know sometimes nothing will work. Apparently, Gabriel used to have them more often after Zurich. He’d spend days in pain and confusion. 

Jack’s arm is still lazily hanging off the bed, fingers barely brushing the smoke. He feels it wind up his arm in a full swirl; Gabriel making a show. Jack raises his eyebrow at him. The smoke stops at his bicep, tip pointing to a long scar running across it. 

“You want me to tell you about that?” _Yes_. 

“You really wanna listen to me talk?” _Yes_.

“Fine,” Jack sighed and smiled at his husband.


End file.
